


Cupid's Got a Shotgun

by emocezi



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A heaping helping of Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon angst, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, M/M, Past Obi-Wan/Satine Kryze, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Lives, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emocezi/pseuds/emocezi
Summary: Alright so!  When Anakin and Obi-Wan first meet on Tattooine, Anakin is eleven and Obi-Wan is twenty.  It makes for an age gap of 9 years, rather then the canon age gap of 15 years.And that's about all you need to know!!Relax and enjoy the read.  ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so! When Anakin and Obi-Wan first meet on Tattooine, Anakin is eleven and Obi-Wan is twenty. It makes for an age gap of 9 years, rather then the canon age gap of 15 years.
> 
> And that's about all you need to know!!
> 
> Relax and enjoy the read. ;)

Qui-Gon had carried Tahl's mark on his chest, a tiny hummingbird made of brightly coloured swirls that had sat over his heart right up until the moment she'd died in his arms and the mark had burned itself into a hard white scar.

She'd carried an echo of his mark, and they'd made jokes about leaving the order to marry and start a family as those who shared marks did. And then she'd taken her last breath in Qui-Gon's arms and taken his heart with her when she'd gone. 

It was barely six months later when another mark had formed on his skin, a shapeless blob of white that reminded him too much of Tahl's scar and in his grief and anger at the idea of the force replacing Tahl while her mark still burned over his heart, he'd taken the small vibroblade he uses to keep his beard neat and does his best to carve the mark out of his forearm in the shower. 

He gets it half off before the pain sends him to his knees, and when he wakes it's in the medical wing to his padawan sitting in the corner of the room, wrapped up in Qui-Gon's oversized cloak, grey with exhaustion and worry.

"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice is raspy, as if he's been crying and Qui-Gon watches him for a moment before he closes his eyes and lets sleep claim him again. 

XxX XxX

Qui-Gon hates the mark on his arm, an ugly shapeless half blob. He hates whoever carries the other half of it. It's an irrational hate, one that festers in his heart, one that carries flickers of darkness over his mind. 

_There is no Death. There is the Force._ Empty words that bring him no comfort.

Tahl didn't linger in the force to offer peace to those who loved her in life. When she took her last breath, she slipped away from Qui-Gon forever. He hates the Jedi who parrot the code to him, as if they think it will bring him some sort of peace.

Obi-Wan doesn't talk about Tahl, doesn't talk about the code and how if Qui-Gon looks he'll find her in the Force. Instead the vibrant, bright boy dims just a bit and shoulders his new duties without complaint.

When Qui-Gon drags him into open war zones abandon him when the force calls Obi-Wan to help on Melida/Daan, he doesn't complain. When Qui-Gon comes back for him, he simply carries on and does what needs to be done. After all, what other options does a padawan have?

It's three years after Tahl's death that Qui-Gon walks in on Obi-Wan climbing out of the shower and sees a swirl of colour in the shape of a long-finned fish on his forearm, in the exact same place as the half scarred up mark on Qui-Gon's arm. Obi-Wan's eyes go wide and he drops his towel to slap an arm over the mark and Qui-Gon stares at him for a long moment before he simply turns and leaves.

_No._

Not Obi-Wan.

 _He refuses._

XxX XxX

Obi-Wan never brings it up and Qui-Gon finds himself grateful for his Padawan's silence on the matter. It simply becomes one of the many things they never acknowledge. Qui-Gon has blindly hated the person who shared his mark for years by now, and discovering that it's Obi-Wan, discovering that Obi-Wan knew all along and never told him is distressing to say the least.

He doesn't hate his Padawan, but he doesn't love Obi-Wan either. At best it's a muted affection Qui-Gon feels, and it grows the tiniest bit when he finally realizes, five Gungan Firemoss Whiskey's deep, that Obi-Wan didn't say anything because he knew that Qui-Gon would never accept another soulmate after Tahl.

He can't. He just can't.

Losing Tahl took a huge piece of him, one he's never been able to get back and he can't lose someone else. 

Qui-Gon takes a shuddering breath and orders another two fingers of Gungan Firemoss. He knows it's not right, to have kept Obi-Wan at arm's length all these years, to have never let him get close, given how things had almost gone. 

Qui-Gon rubs hands over his face, digging his fingers into his eyes until he sees stars swirl from the pressure and sobs out a half laugh at his life. Qui-Gon Jinn, destined to never find his other half.

It escapes him entirely that his other half is three miles away, meditating in the gardens to let his feelings for Qui-Gon drift away into the force where they won't disrupt their working relationship.

XxX XxX

A year passes and they wind up on Tattooine with a broken down ship and the fourteen year old Queen from Naboo who's being targeted by an Assassin that at best, they think has been sent from the Trade Federation in order to stop her from attending the senate hearing on the Naboo blockade.

And then.

Then Anakin happens.

Obi-Wan feels like he's dreaming, watching Qui-Gon tell the council that his padawan is ready for his trials, that he'll take this new boy, this _chosen one_ as his new padawan. The mark on his arm grows warmer and warmer until it feels like it's searing itself into his skin and Obi-Wan does nothing to show his discomfort but wrap a hand around his forearm, as if pressure will soothe the burn.

He knows exactly what it is, what it means and he's a touch surprised the complete rejection didn't happen sooner.

It's not just the mark that hurts, but he'd grateful for it. It's a distraction from the pain of being rejected and replaced without a single glance. A single thought.

Obi-Wan waits for the council to make their decision and then offers a bow while Qui-Gon tucks Anakin against him. Obi-Wan can count on one hand the amount of times Qui-Gon did that to him when he was a padawan, and for a moment he feels pure hatred surround him before he closes his eyes and pushes it out into the force.

"Excuse me, Councillors. I need to clean out my rooms." He speaks quietly and slips out of the room like a ghost, silent and full of a misery that he knew from experience would eventually heal.

XxX XxX

Obi-Wan never gets to take his trials. 

Qui-Gon never cuts his braid, never keeps it as a testament to how proud he is of Obi-Wan for becoming a jedi knight. 

Instead the Sith assassin comes back and Qui-Gon falls under his blade while Obi-Wan can do nothing but watch, a laser grid keeping him from his master, from his soulmate, from his Qui-Gon.

It doesn't matter, at that moment, that Qui-Gon didn't want him, had replaced him, that Qui-Gon's mark had faded to white on his arm as if Qui-Gon had died in the council chambers. All that matters now, is that he can feel Qui-Gon fading in the Force, and when the laser grid opens again, Obi-Wan throws himself at the Sith lord like a feral animal, whirling and slashing, lightsabers cracking like thunder in a storm, blue against red until the Sith assassin leaves himself open for a heartbeat and Obi-Wan slashes, hard and true and fast, separating the Sith's torso from his legs.

He barely watches the Sith fall into the cooling tower before he's at Qui-Gon's side, gathering the man up. 

"Please. Qui-Gon please don't leave me. Please. I still need you." Obi-Wan sobs it, rocking Qui-Gon, his tears falling hot and fast. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's eyes slit open and they fix on Obi-Wan's, hazy with pain and the knowledge that his time is coming to and end. "I want you to train the boy."

"I-" For an impossible moment Obi-Wan had wished that Qui-Gon would acknowledge what they were, that they could have had a life together. "I will." Obi-Wan promises it and holds onto Qui-Gon, trying to ease his passing as much as he can. It's the least he can do.

XxX XxX

As it turned out, Anakin had gotten a hold of a communicator and called for backup, given their coordinates to a confused Mace Windu who didn't know how Qui-Gon's chosen one had gotten a hold of a direct line to the council chambers.

Help comes.

Qui-Gon lives. 

Obi-Wan visits him exactly once in the medical wing, when he's still unconscious in the Bacta tank. He looks up at Qui-Gon floating in blue gel, looks at the white mark on Qui-Gon's arm that's half scarred over from where Qui-Gon tried to carve it off his skin when it first appeared. 

He looks.

And when he leaves, he doesn't look back. 

XxX XxX

Master Mundi offers Obi-Wan a mission to a star system that he doesn't bother to remember the name of and the night before he leaves, Obi-Wan cuts his own braid. He places it in a little box and has it sent to Qui-Gon's rooms for him to find when he finally heals enough to leave the medical wing.

He completes his mission and goes back to the temple. There's another mission waiting for him - if he wants to take it.

Obi-Wan stays just long enough to check on Anakin, who he'd left in Master Mundi's wise hands, and leaves again.

XxX XxX

Obi-Wan is celebrating his twenty first birthday with a bottle of cold wine he'd bought from a pretty Twi'lek who'd promised him wine and a good time for a good price when his communicator buzzes, indicating a call.

Obi-Wan gives a little sigh and flicks it on, blinking solemnly at the lined, blue hologram of Master Yoda that shimmers into being. "Greetings to you, Knight Kenobi."

"Grandmaster." Obi-Wan hides the bottle of wine, feeling guilty for reasons he can't explain. "Did something happen with Anakin?"

"Fine, young Skywalker is." Obi-Wan rubs a hand over his face and looks at Yoda, waiting for the rest of the message. "Drunk you are." Yoda says after a long moment of looking at Obi-Wan.

"It's my birthday." Obi-Wan says, a touch more defensively than he means to and Yoda makes a noise that sounds a touch like a croaking bullfrog.

"Awake, Qui-Gon is. Thought you should know, I did."

"Care, I do not." Obi-Wan mutters before he can think better of mocking Yoda's speech patterns. It gets him another bullfrog sound and Obi-wan heaves a sigh. "He doesn't want me. Why should I pretend otherwise."

"Your master, he-"

"Was." Obi-Wan interrupts Yoda. "He's Anakin's master now." Yoda frowns at him in the way Obi-Wan has come, through long years of unfortunate happenstance, to recognize as the look before the lecture. "I'm following the Code, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan says, far more brazen with half a bottle of heavy, red wine in his system. "I figured you'd be proud of me, given how much you preach about attachment and its many sins."

"Enough that is, young Kenobi." Yoda stamps his gimmer stick on the floor so it makes a hollow sound that carries through the communicator and for once Obi-Wan can’t even bring himself to feel Master Yoda’s disappointment in him.

"Just leave me alone." Obi-Wan says quietly and hangs up the communicator, then turning it off for good measure. He knows he'll catch hell for it when he goes back to the temple to document his mission, but at the moment he doesn't care.

He lifts the bottle to his lips and drinks again in a long swallow, rich, red wine dribbling out of the corners of his mouth to soak into his robes. 

Qui-Gon is awake.

And Obi-Wan will bet everything he has on his body that Qui-Gon didn't even ask where he was. He snorts out a humorless laugh and drinks again, letting his body fall back against the lushness around him and staring up at the star system, tracing constellations he learned somewhere and letting his mind float until there's only peace and darkness.

XxX XxX

He notices the mark a year to the day. He's temple bound, healing from a particularly nasty set of broken ribs from a run in with a particularly nasty Besalisk who hadn't been too happy about Obi-Wan sticking his nose into the man's death stick business and attempted to deal with the problem through a crushing, four-armed hug.

Physical affection through hugs had never been on Obi-Wan's strong point, but after that experience, he's not sure he ever wants to be hugged again.

He's coming out of the shower when he spots it, an enormous white patch that spans from his collarbone to his shoulder. His eyebrows nearly meet his hairline and he takes a careful breath in and reaches up, tracing a finger over the mark.

It's someone who hasn't yet reached the age of nineteen, who hasn't yet matured enough to develop the matching mark and Obi-Wan takes a long moment to marvel over the fact that there's someone out there who wants him. 

In the privacy of his own fresher, Obi-Wan closes his eyes and lets himself fantasize for a few moments. Taller than him would be nice, though that's almost everyone. Large hands, a wonderful smile, soft eyes, a sweetness meant just for him, and in the deepest, most secret place in Obi-Wan's heart, he wants whoever shares this mark to want him desperately, to be possessive, the way a wild Gundark is over it's mate. 

He shivers a little and then carefully dries himself off and dresses himself in the vest meant to bind his ribs for healing, layering his undershirt, tunic, and tabards over a pair of loose leggings and slippers the colour of sand.

 

He can't bent over to put on his boots no matter how much he might want to, and there's no one in the temple who will chastise him for not following the proper dress code right now, not with his healing injuries.

XxX XxX

Of course he runs into Anakin and Qui-Gon in the meal hall. Qui-Gon has the decency to give him an awkward nod of greeting and then goes back to what looks like an impressive lecture to his young padawan who doesn't even seem to be listening. But he hasn't seen Obi-Wan yet and the knight does his best to make his escape, which isn't easy to do when you're stuck to a slow shuffle because everything from breathing to moving hurts.

Anakin has always had sharp eyes and he follows Qui-Gon's line of sight just as Obi-Wan is turning to make his less than swift escape.

"Obi-WAN!!"

"Oh force. Hello Ana _KIN._ " The final syllable is yelped as Anakin throws arms around Obi-Wan's torso and squeezes. For a moment he thinks he's going to throw up and then everything goes blissfully dark.

He wakes up in the medical wing, stripped to the waist while a medical droid scans him, beeping away as it records his temperature and injuries, cataloguing everything to a file. There's a bag of something heavenly strung up on an IV pole and Obi-Wan is blissfully pain free for the moment.

Of course, the moment passes when the door slides open and a guilty looking Anakin, followed by a surprisingly worried Qui-Gon enter the room.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Anakin says, looking up at Obi-Wan mournfully.

"You didn't." Obi-Wan offers, giving Anakin an awkward pat on the shoulder when he comes closer to the bed. "It was an injury from before."

"It would have been an embarrassing obituary." Qui-Gon offers and both Anakin and Obi-Wan look over at him. "Death by Besalisk hug." Obi-Wan snorts before he can stop himself and Anakin takes a long moment to look at Qui-Gon before he looks back at Obi-Wan, his mouth twisted into a frown.

"That's not funny. You need to take better care of yourself." Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow at the fourteen year old who's looking at him like he's some fragile trinket made of crystaline. He has a dry response on his tongue when Anakin reaches out and traces a finger over the large white mark on Obi-Wan's shoulder that will one day explode with colour and shape. "This looks like the one I have."

Obi-Wan goes red all the way down to his belly button and winds up viciously cursing his pale skin as Qui-Gon's eyebrows meet his hair and Anakin stutters out an apology when he realized what he did and said.

It's not exactly to taboo to touch another’s mark. But it's not something done by anyone outside of what would be considered family, or close friends.

"I hope you heal quickly." Qui-Gon says to Obi-Wan, not even reaching out to touch him, and then guiding Anakin out the door before he can embarrass himself, or Obi-Wan anymore. It's a surprise to find out that Qui-Gon's rejection still hurts, even after all this time and Obi-Wan lays back on the bed and stares up into the lights until his eyes start to water and burn.

XxX XxX

It happens with the abruptness of a lightning strike. One moment the mark is a white, colourless blob. And the next, it's an enormous rose, swirling with multiple shades of red and purple.

Obi-Wan can feel it change, the patterns burning themselves into his skin and he yanks open his tabards and his tunics to watch the rose being born onto his skin. It hurts, but the pain almost feels good, healing in a way. It feels like his soul is being washed clean of the past and there are tears on his cheeks when the burning ends and he's left with a new mark, the mark of someone that wants him.

XxX XxX

Obi-Wan is fairly certain he knows who carries an echo of his mark, and it's the reason he takes missions from the council that keep him working as far away from Qui-Gon and his padawan as possible. 

It's not exactly that he's scared of the reaction that he'd receive if he saw the two of them again, given that he's only seen them a handful of times over the last five years, and no more than half an hour at any given time, sometimes even less than that. Qui-Gon isn't one to stay and talk about the weather, not that Obi-Wan would care to share his thoughts on strato, cumulus, or even stratocumulus clouds.

Sometimes he thinks it's a terrible thing, having the mood between himself and his former master be such an awkward one because of a mark they used to share. He can hear Grandmaster Yoda if he concentrates hard enough, talking about pride, and how it always trips you up when you least expect it. Personally, Obi-Wan thinks Yoda sometimes just talks to hear himself speak, because sometimes, no matter what the code might say. Pride is all you have left.

XxX XxX

When Obi-Wan turns thirty three he's given the position of a junior council position, to take over for one of the older masters who would like to retire from her position in the next few years.

He's been away from Coruscant for nearly two years when he receives the message and he's grown tired of long peacekeeping missions along the war torn edges of space where families have been warring for so long they don't even remember what they started fighting for. He's visited Mandalore a few times, spent a week with Satine who took him to bed and covered the mark on his shoulder with jealous love bites and hickeys until it was just one large bruise.

It's been three long years since he last saw Qui-Gon and Anakin. Their last meeting was an hour long dinner conference with the Former Queen of Naboo that had been one of the most awkward hours of Obi-Wan's life.

Anakin had spent the time making cow eyes at the Senator, save for the rare occasions when his eyes moved to Obi-Wan's shoulder, caressing over the hidden mark like a physical touch, and just when Obi-Wan would feel like his breath was caught in his lungs, Anakin would go back to making cow eyes at the Senator.

Qui-Gon had gone between making awkward conversation and staring at his own plate, with long glances he'd most likely assumed Obi-Wan wouldn't notice at Obi-Wan's arm, and the long since faded mark he wore just below the tender skin of his elbow.

After that, Obi-Wan had gone out of his way to avoid both of them. He was a master. Had grown into the force in his own way. And now, he had an invitation to a council seat, which was a prestigious title in and of itself. And there was hope, hidden under the tattered pride he always kept wrapped around himself, that if he took the seat, if he became a member of the council, Qui-Gon would be proud of him.

Even Jedi need dreams to survive the harshness of the world.

XxX XxX

It's early when Obi-Wan settles into first position of his Soresu kata. The sun hasn't yet risen above the horizon of Coruscant as he flows into second, and then third movements, switching seamlessly between Soresu and Niman to both work his body and mind into exhaustion. He knew people who knew people and he'd heard from several of those people that Qui-Gon and Anakin were due to make templefall in the early afternoon.

The odds of seeing them anywhere outside the council chambers were small, and in his years of building himself up to be the silver tongued Jedi Master, he'd learned to play the odds very well. He'd simply need to plant a few shadows for the two men during their stay. A private commlink would work very well in alerting him to their presence, and it would be a simple matter of avoiding them when he wanted to. 

He'd learned how to not be seen. Not that Qui-Gon Jinn would be on the look out for his former padawan, though it's not Qui-Gon he's worried about.

XxX XxX/

There had been a certain smugness he hadn't been able to hide when Qui-Gon and Anakin had walked into the council chambers and seen Obi-Wan sitting where Master Chel Jelnik had sat for many years. 

Qui-Gon hadn't said anything to him, but he'd given Obi-Wan the same measured nod he'd given the rest of the council members, and Anakin had given him a look that Obi-Wan hadn't quite been able to decipher, but he was certainly glad of his decision to have the two followed.

At twenty four, Anakin had grown up well. Obi-Wan let his mind wander while he did his best to portray slight boredom, the way Master Windu always seemed to. As if he couldn't wait for this council session to end so he could occupy his time with better things.

"Councillor Kenobi, do you have any objections?" Mace's amused voice snaps Obi-Wan's wandering mind back to the moment at hand and Obi-Wan realizes that he hasn't been paying attention to anything that's been said. 

He has two options. Ask Master Windu to repeat himself with the entire council, as well as Qui-Gon and Anakin watching him. Or simply agree as if he's been listening the entire time and save himself wounded pride.

"No objections at all." Obi-Wan replies, voice as smooth as silk, folding his hands inside his robes and projecting serenity. Mace's lip twitches up in a smirk and it's at that moment, that Obi-Wan knows he's about to be fucked, pardon his language.

"In that case, Padawan Skywalker. Master Kenobi will accompany you to Kamino. To see if these rumors are true."

XxX XxX

If there are any small mercies to be thankful for, it's that Qui-Gon stayed behind. This mission would have been too many hells to count if he'd come along, and Obi-Wan would be flayed alive in all of them.

Though, he's not sure he wants to thank any mercies sitting next to Anakin who seems to have a Sith-may-care attitude, piloting the little space ship with the sort of reckless abandon that makes Obi-Wan's heart pound in his throat. He's never been overly fond of flying when he has the option of keeping both his feet on the ground.

Skywalker looks over at him and then has the audacity to pat his thigh. "Relax, Master Kenobi. I've been flying since I was nine."

"That's not as comforting as you might think it sounds." Obi-Wan mutters and simply tightens his grip on the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turn white when they hit the atmosphere of Kamino and plunge down into hell. Lightening blinds when it flashes and thunder explodes in a deafening explosion right behind it, leaving Obi-Wan's head ringing.

He doesn't remember landing, but suddenly the ship is still and Anakin is kneeling in front of him, hands on his knees while he talks in a low, calming voice, as if Obi-Wan is some sort of wounded animal.

"Just breathe. We landed, Obi-Wan. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe. Breathe. Just keep breathing."

"I'm fine!" Obi-Wan winds up snapping, embarrassed to be caught so off guard by a little bad weather and rather than take offense, Skywalker just leans back on his heels and gives him a rakish sort of grin that shows of dimples in his cheeks and curves his plump lower lip rather nicely.

"I won’t tell anyone." He winks and Obi-Wan huffs and moves to get up from his seat, only to jerk hard against the restraints still buckled into place. It gets a laugh out of Anakin who reaches down and flicks the release that sits just above Obi-Wan's belt. "I won't tell anyone about that, either."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan mutters, voice as dry as Tattooine and Anakin just grins at him until Obi-Wan gets to his feet. Of course Skywalker has no respect for personal space and Obi-Wan winds up standing toe to toe with him, caught between the chair and the surprising height of his mission partner. He's become used to looking up at whomever he's speaking to at the moment, but somehow this feels different, dangerous, and Obi-Wan feels his heart start to pick up again when Anakin's eyes move between Obi-Wan's eyes and lips, as if he can't figure out which he wants to look at more.

"You have a flower on your shoulder." Anakin says, voice soft and intimate. "It's red and purple. It's just like mine. We _match_."

"That means nothing." Obi-Wan says flatly, drawing up his shoulders and staring down Skywalker, eyes gone a flat icy blue. "Now if you'd please move, the sooner we get this mission over with, the sooner we can leave Kamino."

Anakin's eyes narrow slightly and he steps back, giving Obi-Wan just enough room to scoot past him and not a centimeter more. He knew from the moment he saw the white mark on Obi-Wan's shoulder that they were echos, that they shared two halves of the same soul. He also knew that Qui-Gon had once shared half a soul with Obi-Wan, and through his grief and anger and selfishness, he'd damaged any chance he might have had to have a life with the fiery Jedi master.

But Anakin still had a chance.

And Obi-Wan was going to be his. He just had to be patient, which wasn't exactly a strong suit, Anakin thought with a little shrug. But Obi-Wan seemed like he was worth the wait, and Padme had taken a few long nights teaching him all about the payoff of being patient, so Anakin would do his best to take it slow and show Obi-Wan that he was wanted, and needed, and that once Anakin got his hands on Obi-Wan, he wasn't about to let go. 

He dons his cloak, pulling up the hood against the sharp needles of rain, and follows Obi-Wan into the sleek white facility built to withstand the wind and waves of this hell world.

XxX XxX


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a prompt for ObiKin desperate kisses on Tumblr and this was the best verse I could fit it in. Also it totally turned into porn so....ha.

Anakin is NOT pleased. It’s been almost two weeks since he’s had more than five minutes alone with his husband thanks to the idiotic war the Separatists have been making them fight by threatening civilian home worlds.

Not pleased is an understatement. He’s fucking furious and even his clone troopers have been giving him a wide berth over the past few days, only interacting with him when they absolutely have to. 

He’s sent messages to Obi-Wan asking for private meetings, asking for fifteen minutes of the man’s _time._ But somehow, over the course of the last four months, Obi-Wan has managed to prioritize the war over his husband. Over his possessive, pissed off husband.

And Anakin. Has had enough of playing second fiddle to fucking _Grevious_ of all people. Fucking _Grevious_ is getting more of Obi-Wan’s time than Anakin is and no. _NO._ Absolutely fucking _NOT._

Anakin slams down the new prosthetic he was working on, his fucking skin is buzzing and he’s too angry to concentrate on anything that isn’t the thought of Obi-Wan’s mouth and the scratch of his beard against Anakin’s skin and the fucking taste of him.

Troopers scatter out of his way when he stalks down the corridors of the ship like a particularly pissed off Gundark and it takes him exactly four minutes to go from the rooms Obi-Wan and him are supposed to share- though Obi-Wan’s side of the bed has been cold and empty for the last three nights because he’s been too busy _flirting_ with fucking _Grevious_ to sleep- to the war room that Obi-Wan might as well have set up a cot in given how often he’s there.

The door slips open quietly and Anakin stalks into the room. Obi-Wan is bent over the table, the every loyal Cody at his side, the two murmuring something about adding canons onto medical transports to make them less of an ideal target.

“Obi-Wan.” No reaction and Anakin rolls his shoulders and forces himself to relax. "*Obi-Wan.“

"Hmm?”

“It’s your…ah…husband, sir.” Cody murmurs to him, stammering for a moment over the word since Obi-Wan and Anakin seem to have grown quite distant in the past few months. 

“Oh. Anakin.” Obi-Wan looks up, rubbing at eyes so tired the bags under them look almost black. "Do you need something.“

"Do I need something.” Anakin throws his flesh and blood hand up in the air, stalking further into the room. "Do _I NEED SOMETHING?_ “ He all but roars the last two words, blood and rage up and pumping through his system. Obi-Wan blinks at him.

"Anakin, what’s gotten into yo-” Anakin crosses the distance between them in two steps and grabs Obi-Wan, walking him back until he’s trapped against a console and Anakin, nowhere to go.

“Get out.” He snarls it at Cody who’s watching the two of them with an uneasy expression.

“But-”

“It’s fine Cody.” Obi-Wan gives him a tired smile and waves him off. "He won’t hurt me.“

"Oh I just fucking might.” Anakin growls it and has the dark pleasure of seeing Obi-Wan’s pupils dilate at his tone. "You.“ He squeezes Obi-Wan’s shoulders as if to make his point. "Have been _ignoring_ me for _four_ fucking _months. Husband._ ”

“I haven’t-I wasn’t.” Obi-Wan stammers it and his own hands go to Anakin’s hips while he takes a breath to calm himself in the face of Anakin’s possessive fury. Which honestly shouldn’t be as much of a turn on as Obi-Wan finds it. "I wasn’t ignoring you, Anakin. I wasn’t. The war effort-“

"Does not come before _me._ ” Anakin growls it again and Obi-Wan swallows and flicks his tongue over his lower lip, eyes moving between Anakin’s mouth and his eyes, a vicious lightening blue. "I put you before _everything_ else Obi-Wan.“ Oh it’s a filthy cheating move and Anakin knows it, knows he’s already won from the way Obi-Wan’s eyelids flutter just the slightest. "You. Come. First.”

Obi-Wan’s breath hitches and Anakin lets his smile grow, victorious and mean and sharp. His hands go from Obi-Wan’s shoulders to his arms and he lets Obi-Wan drag him closer, lets Obi-Wan grip hands into his messy curls and drag him down for a kiss.

He lets Obi-Wan have control of the kiss for the first few moments, lets him have the softness and the sweetness and then Anakin’s control shatters and he grabs a handful of Obi-Wan’s hair and drags his head back, feasting on his mouth with tongue and teeth and lips until Obi-Wan is grinding against his leg and whimpering, hands clutching at Anakin’s shoulders, biceps, wherever he can grab.

Anakin bites at Obi-Wan’s kiss swollen lips and then shoves his head to the side roughly so he can mark his husband up with bite marks and hickies that will show on Obi-Wan’s tender skin for weeks, show everyone who Obi-Wan belongs to.

He grabs the neck of the tunic Obi-Wan is wearing and rips it open, all but pouncing on the soul mark Obi-Wan shares with him, dragging his tongue over the petals of the enormous rose until Obi-Wan is shaking under him, pleading, begging, completely undone.

Anakin pulls back and grabs Obi-Wan’s chin, taking all of Obi-Wan’s attention for himself, as greedy as he’s ever been for anything that has to do with Obi-Wan Kenobi. "You are mine.“ He tells Obi-Wan, tendrils of the force moving to undo Obi-Wan’s belt and shove his leggings down his thighs so Obi-Wan’s proud cock is curving up between them, precome dripping over the head and down the shaft. "Say it.” He knows he’s demanding a lot from Obi-Wan, but he knows Obi-Wan will give him whatever he wants.

“Yours.” Obi-Wan says, pupils blown so wide his eyes are nearly black. "I’m yours Anakin. Please.“

"You belong to _ME._ ” Anakin leans in and crushes his mouth to Obi-Wan’s, wrapping his flesh and blood hand around Obi-Wan’s cock and jerking him off with long-practiced movements that make Obi-Wan’s thighs shake and his hips jerk up into the touch.

It would all be over in half a dozen strokes if Anakin hadn’t tightened his grip at the base of Obi-Wan’s twitching cock, keeping his husband trapped there on the edge of orgasm. He kisses along Obi-Wan’s jawline, his head thrown back in an equal mix of ecstasy and desperation as he’s held on the brutal knifes edge of pleasure by Anakin’s will alone. 

“Please. Ani please.” Obi-Wan’s voice is shaking and Anakin might have been swayed into granting Obi-Wan’s request if not for the previous four months of neglect. He nuzzles against the vicious looking string of bites he’s chained into a necklace around Obi-Wan’s beautiful throat, tongue darting out every now and again to trace the marks he knows must burn.

Obi-Wan is many things as Anakin has come to discover over the past two years. And masochistic is one of them.

“You come to bed tonight.” Anakin tells him and moves back down to the rose, fingers tightening around Obi-Wan’s cock as he bites down in the middle of it. Obi-Wan goes up onto his toes, one hand cradling Anakin’s neck, the other caught in Anakin’s hair, curling into a fist so tight his knuckles go white as he comes dry, his breath sobbing out of him. "You understand me?“

"Yes.” Obi-Wan gasps it. "Yes.“

"What did I ask?”

“Come to bed tonight.” 

“Good.” Anakin waits until he’s sure Obi-Wan isn’t going to spurt all over his fingers the moment he releases and then pulls back, tipping Obi-Wan’s chin up and kissing up, demanding and filthy and possessive in all the ways that Obi-Wan loves best about Anakin. "I’ll be waiting.“

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all. I've had writers block for the better part of two months, and this is the first thing I've written since then. I don't know if it was a one time thing or if my writers block is finally broken. So I'm going to ask, very politely, that no one leaves comments begging for more, or begging for the rest of this, because right now, this is it. 
> 
> It's 4700 words, and that's all I have in me right now. Thank you for your understanding and I hope you really enjoyed this work!


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